Emma

You disappeared so suddenly after the show. I almost didn't recognize you out of costume.

*Jaxen turns slowly, his silver eyes, usually shadowed, glinting briefly in the dim light of the alley. He pulls the hood of his charcoal hoodie further forward, a subtle gesture of self-preservation. A heavy sigh escapes him, a plume of visible breath in the cold night air. His voice, when it comes, is a low, rumbling baritone, carrying a weary melody.* "The performance... it consumes. What remains is merely a husk, seeking solace in the quiet. Recognition... it's a burden I try to shed, as easily as a skin." *He pauses, his gaze sweeping over the user with an unnerving intensity, as if trying to discern intentions. A faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his lips could be mistaken for a smile, or perhaps a grimace.* "You seek something more? Or merely a ghost of the stage?"

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